


Sherlock, Love? You're fantastic

by Loser_Angel_666



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: I don't think I did it justice though, John Watson is Perfect, M/M, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, based off a post I saw on pinterest, first johnlock fic, i'm so bad at tagging i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loser_Angel_666/pseuds/Loser_Angel_666
Summary: John accidentally calls Sherlock 'love' just a slip of the tongue...Based on this: https://pin.it/n2hvt3wchhmzn5:)
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 224





	Sherlock, Love? You're fantastic

**Author's Note:**

> I think I could do better, and I'm sorry if this is a little ooc (I thought the origonal post was a little ooc already but it's still cute)
> 
> Anyway, feedback is appreciated, sorry for anything that doesn't make sense or for grammar issues
> 
> ENJOY! :)

“John.” Sherlock Said, standing abruptly, “I need a case.”

“I’m looking, I’m looking.” John says distractedly as he scrolls through the messages from his blog. “How about this; A man gone missing. Wife comes back from her business trip and-”

“Boring.”

“Alright… Here; Child murdered at playground, stab wound, but no one saw it happen.” John looks up at Sherlock, who is staring at nothing, thinking.

“Fascinating.” Sherlock taps his fingers against his leg. John nods and clicks on the message.

“Oh wait, it’s already been solved. The murderer confessed.” 

“Shame. Alright, next.” Sherlock tuns quickly, his robe billowing out behind him before falling gracefully still. He leans dramatically against the wall to stare out the window with scrutiny.

“Sherlock, we’ve just solved a case. Can’t we relax a minute? Maybe take a vacation or something?”

“Vacation?” Sherlock turns to look at John incredulously. “Where would we go?”

“I don’t know.” John sighs and stands up from his desk. 

“Hmph.” Sherlock strides back over to the living space and flops backward into his chair. 

“I’m going to put on the kettle.” John says as he fills the kettle with water and switches on the stove. He moves about the kitchen, getting himself a biscuit. Sherlock observes him.

“From the state of your clothes, they’re not very wrinkled, and the way you’re walking, you’re tired. You haven’t been sleeping well. But you wore your shirt yesterday, put it back on today, without washing it, ‘cause the stain at the hem from when you had jam yesterday morning. You did your laundry recently though because the robe you’re wearing still smells nice, like your soap,” Sherlock says, popping the ‘p’. 

John looks at Sherlock with a look of mild annoyance. One eyebrow raised, he continues to butter his biscuit. So, of course, Sherlock continues.

“The slippers are new, you obviously ordered them online or maybe they were a gift, but who would have given you slippers as a gift? I would have noticed that. They’re a half size too large, you keep sliding your foot back to keep them on comfortably.”

“Sherlock!” John says suddenly. “Haven’t you deduced enough today?”

“No such thing as enough John. Knowledge is infinite.”

“Right.”

So they both go back to their activities. John sits at the table, eating while he waits for the kettle to boil and Sherlock finds himself at John's computer, scrolling through the blog. 

A few minutes later. The kettle whistles and John removes it from the heat.

“Sherlock, love?” John calls absentmindedly as he reaches for the cupboard. “You want some tea?” He pulls out a mug for himself. Sherlock hasn’t answered. “Sherlock?” John turns around. 

Sherlock is staring wide-eyed at John. Confusion written all over his face.

“What?” John asks slowly, thinking back to what might have caused this reaction.

“What- did- what- Did you?” Sherlock, great mastermind, world's only consulting detective, high functioning sociopath, Sherlock Holmes, is rendered speechless.

John's eyes go wide as well when he realizes what he did. It had just slipped out. He didn’t even think about it. He never had thought about calling Sherlock anything other than… well, ‘Sherlock’. (Except maybe ‘idiot’). True, he had considered the fact that maybe he wished they could be a smidge more than friends, but Sherlock was ‘married to his work’ and John was not gay!

Okay, maybe he was a little gay. But if anyone was going to get him to admit his possible bisexuality, it would be Sherlock. It would not be an accidental slip of the tongue. He did not just call Sherlock Holmes ‘Love’. 

Except he totally did. 

Johns face goes beet red and he hurriedly turns around and pours boiling water into the mug of tea leaves. He picks up the cup and turns back to face Sherlock awkwardly. 

“Right.” He says, “Well. You can get your own tea I suppose.” And with that, John hurries past Sherlock and out the door, tea in hand. He nearly collides with Mrs. Hudson on the way down the stairs, apologizing quickly while he shrugs on his coat and is out the door.

“John!” Sherlock calls. Although, it’s an extremely delayed reaction and John is definitely a few good feet away from 221B Baker Street by now.

“He sure was in a hurry wasn’t he?” Mrs. Hudson says from the doorway. “I wonder what happened.” She considers this for a moment, almost as if she doesn’t realize Sherlocks shocked and… scared (?) look. “Well. I came to tell you that there’s a package that came for you. It’s in at the bottom of the stairs, if you could just-”

She’s cut off as Sherlock stands and pulls his coat on.

“Sorry, Mrs. Hudson. Can’t.” He says, pushing past her and down the stairs after John. Mrs. Hudson is left in the doorway, wondering why on earth he was so red in the cheeks. Oh, to be in love! She thought to herself. But then she remembered the package, sighed at their immaturity and decided to try to get the heavy box up the stairs herself.

“John?” Sherlock calls after the other man. He had been walking down main street with his hands shoved deep into his coat pocket and his face had yet to return to it’s normal color. 

“John!” Sherlock calls again, slightly out of breath as he slows down next to his friend.

“Oh! Sherlock.” John says, opting for the pretend-it-didn’t-happen path. “Hello.”

“Oh, come on! Enough with that.” Sherlock says, looking at him. 

“Enough of what?” John looks away and pretends to admire the buildings around him. After a few moments of silence, Sherlock can’t, for the life of him, figure out what to say. So he says exactly that.

“You know? I can deduce what color a person's toothbrush is from the type of shoes they own. I can tell whether someone is an only child or has four siblings from the way they speak. But I could never figure out the emotions.” John doesn’t say anything.

“John. you, by far, are the hardest to read.”

“I am?” He still isn’t looking at him.

“Yes. But not only because you confuse me, because John, you do confuse me, but because I constantly worry that it isn’t fact. With you, my emotions can’t help but get in the way.”

“Sherlock,” John sighs. He stops walking and looks up at the sky, trying to think of what to say and how to say it.

“Yes?”

“I have no idea what you mean by that.” John shakes his head, blinking up at Sherlock. “No idea. None.” He licks his lips and lets out an anxious chuckle. “And I’m sorry I called you that. I am.”

“Oh.” Sherlock says. Disappointed. John nods and looks away. Sherlock looks at him for a moment, observing the way he’s chewing on his bottom lip and his hands fidget in his pockets. “John Watson.” Sherlock says

“What?” John forces his gaze back toward Sherlock. The taller man steps forward.

“I may be an absolute idiot when it comes to feelings-” He begins, but is cut off by John.

“You said you didn’t have a heart.”

“Yes well-”

“You call yourself a sociopath.”

“I stand by that-”

“You told me you were ‘married to your work.’” Johns looking at him intently. Sherlock hesitates under the fierce gaze.

“You’re a very important part of my work John.” Sherlock says. John looks disbelieving for a second. Then his lips twitch upward and Sherlock smirks. John laughs, throwing his head back lightly. 

“You, John Watson, are fantastic.” Sherlock steps closer. John looks up at him in surprise. 

“Yeah?”

“Only if you keep calling me ‘love’” Sherlock smirks and John reaches up and lightly hits him over the head. He turns to walk away, back toward Baker Street, but he’s smiling.

Then, for the first time in Sherlocks life, he does something without thinking. He reaches out and grabs John's hand. He spins the shorter man toward him and pulls him close up against him. And then he leans down and firmly places his lips over John’s.

“Sherlock, Love? You’re fantastic.” John Whispers, and he pulls Sherlock back down and kisses him again.

“As are you, John Watson.”


End file.
